


Wolf

by Sinnabon_Delights



Category: Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Gen, micah "wont hesitate to kill a bitch but hesitates when giving a hug" bell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17336585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnabon_Delights/pseuds/Sinnabon_Delights
Summary: Your past has caught up with you, and subsequently Micah learns something new. Someone you used to know has came to give you a little visit, and left you with a rather nasty 'gift.' Micah decides he should return the favor on your behalf.





	Wolf

Micah had been restless the past few days, though more so than usual. Just a few days ago you had arrived back to camp after an outing with a rather nasty black eye. He wasn’t happy about that, and was bound and determined to find out just who gave you the swollen eye so he could give them two in return. Despite his poking and prodding, you had kept your mouth shut. Micah wasn’t very happy about that, either, and he was glued to your side trying every way he knew to get you to spill the beans. He was breathing down your neck and watching your every move, wanting to know if and when you’d leave camp next so he could follow behind and keep and eye on you.

That wasn’t needed, though, because after a few drinks by an open fire, you began to tell him what led to the black eye adorning your face. You told him something about yourself that only Dutch knew; that you were married prior to joining the gang. That the bastard husband of yours was the reason you even crossed paths with Dutch. It was a long story, full of greed and betrayal, but you told him about everything. Of how that man had only married you for your father’s money, then after a whole year of suffering he left you to die in a ditch. That was all you were to him; something to dispose of after being used until all you had was gone.

“I caught wind of him being in town, y'know,” you hiccuped, sloshing the contents of the half empty beer bottle, “I was a fool to try and get revenge.” Micah stared at you, and every word you spilled was fuel for the fire burning in his belly. “I found him, alright, but turns out he was looking for me too. Love finds a way.” You laughed bitterly and turned the bottle up, emptying the rest of it into your stomach.

“He drug me into a nearby pigsty. Everyone just looked on… guess they’s all used to bastard men beating on their wives.” You spat into the fire, throwing the empty bottle into the flames. “He taunted me, said that running with the wolves would kill me slower than any bullet. Said it’d be too generous to kill me right then and there.” You looked to the sky, eyes wet with the emotions the conversation had brought up. “Damn you Jamison…”

Micah reached over, placing a hand on your knee and gave it a light squeeze. You were drunk and on the verge of tears so he didn’t mind the odd glances from the other outlaws. “Get yourself another beer, I’m heading out.” He stood up, gritting his teeth, “And you better not think about trailing behind.” You quickly grabbed onto his sleeve to stop him from leaving just yet, looking up at him with tears rolling down your face.

“You make him suffer.” You slurred, releasing him after saying what you had to. He wiped a tear off of your cheek with the back of his hand, a rare moment of tenderness from the blonde, before storming off to his mount.  
A short ride later, he had arrived at the little town known as Valentine. It didn’t take much to sniff out what we was after. A few questions about what was going on around town recently pointed him in the direction of a rather strange and wealthy man that was new in town, who was currently staying in the Saints Hotel until the next train.  
Without a doubt Micah knew that was the culprit, and headed into the establishment to face down the man.

“Good evening, sir.” The bookeeper greeted with a warm smile that soon faded away once he got a good look at the rough looking blonde. Micah slammed his hands down onto the counter, “Are you keeping a Jamison here? It’s a matter of personal business.” With a hesitant nod the man pointed up the stairs. “Room 2B…”

With a quick nod Micah was up the stairs and infront of the door, not hesitating a moment as he kicked the door open. A black haired man had been packing, but was now startled and staring wide eyed at the intruder.

“Who in the blazes are you!?” He demanded, though Micah stayed silent as he approached the man, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and landing a fist into his left eye. “I’m the last god damned thing you’re going to see.”

Micah beat the man’s face until his knuckles were bleeding and the victim’s face was almost unrecognizable with all of the blood covering it. He was in a blind rage, though, and didn’t stop there. He knocked the man around the room, only giving the son of a bitch a break when he was out of breath.  
Jamison was on the verge of passing out, or maybe death, his eyes completely swelled shut and his lip busted. He probably had a few broken ribs, too. “Get up.” Micah threw the man against wall, and he slumped down, silent. “I said get your ass up!” He kicked him in the gut, getting only a grunt in response. The moment of quiet gave Micah a chance to collect himself, and although he wasn’t completely calm he was much more so than seconds ago. With the ability to think back in his grasp, an idea better than plain ol’ beating to death came to mind.

With a huff Micah picked the man up by the back of his shirt, allowing him to lean on him so they could walk out. He was well past fighting back, and was only holding onto consciousnes by a few threads. Micah led him down the stairs, the hotel owner giving him a wide eyed stare.

“What are you doing!? I’ll get the sheriff on you!” The man warned, but Micah reached into his coat pocket and threw a handful of bills at him. “I told you it was personal business, now shut the hell up or I’ll make you.” He growled, and the glasses wearing man wordlessly nodded as he gathered up the scattered money.  
Micah exited the building, quiet stares of the town goers greeting him. It must’ve been an intimidating sight because most kept their heads down and carried on with their daily tasks. The outlaw continued his journey to the pig pens, deciding that now he had blew off some steam he would talk a bit to the bastard hanging off his arm.

“I know you were well aware of the fact (Y/n) (L/n) was running with the wolves, so why did you think it was a good idea to mess with her?” He talked with the causality an old friend would speak with, name dropping you so Jamison knew the reason why he was going to die today. “You didn’t think a wolf would come sniff you out?”

Jamison could only groan, coughing up a bit of blood and spitting a tooth onto the ground. The smell of pigshit was growing stronger as they approached the pigsty, and Micah knew the time with the bastard was nearly up. “You’re just a damn pig…” He chuckled, pushing Jamison so he hit the fence, causing him to double over and almost topple into the pen.  
Micah came up behind him, picked him up and tossed him in, Jamison landing face first into a pile of manure. The pigs began squealing, running around the pen in a panic and trampling the man into the mud and shit. Micah sat on the fence, watching that go on for a moment longer before hopping in himself, seeing as all good things couldn’t last forever he shooed the pigs into a corner.  
After the pigs had calmed down a bit, he lifted Jamison’s head up by his hair, the man gasping for air. He laughed at the pitiful sight, the sound cold with no real humor in it. Micah drug him by his hair to the water trough, positioning him so he could look at himself and the black haired man in the still water.  
“And pig is fine eating for a wolf like me.” He shoved Jamison’s head under the water, the man weakly struggling against him. He kept his head under until the struggles ceased and there were no bubbles rising to the surface. Micah gave Jamison’s body a pat on the back then he exited the pen, the hogs beginning to become curious of the corpse. Before making his leave, though, he went and picked up the tooth that Jamison had spit out and pocketed it.

You were sat on a log on the edge of the small path leading into camp, keeping your eyes out for Micah. The whole time he was gone you felt anxious, wondering if he’d even find the man you were once wed to. You had sobered back up in the few hours he had been gone, the turmoil of your emotions hindering you from enjoying any comfort the alcohol would have given you.

You perked up when you saw the familiar foxtrotter and his rider galloping down the path at a leisurely pace. You waved, calling out his name, a small smile appearing on your face at the sight of him returning.

Micah dismounted his horse, reaching into his pocket as he came up to you. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of your husband anymore. It seems he’s had a terrible accident… my condolences.” He put the tooth in your hand. He didn’t want you to just take his word for it, he wanted to prove it. He wanted to prove he’d do his best to protect you, even if it meant he would have to do his worst. Oh, and he sure wasn’t past doing his worst.

At a loss for words, you tossed the tooth aside, jumping into him and giving him a tight hug, your cheek pressed against his chest. Micah was taken aback for a moment, not really expecting such a thank you, but he slowly melted into it and put his arms around you, pressing you as close as he could. The two of you stood there like that for a while, silently holding each other. From now on he’d be keeping a close eye on you, not wanting anyone to lay a finger on you again. He wouldn’t allow it. Especially if it meant he would receive an embrace from you as thanks


End file.
